


Entropy and Equilibrium

by theoneandonlyzoom



Series: Contrived Unity [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Begins Pre-TFA and ends just after TLJ, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hux soldiers on as usual, M/M, Mind Manipulation, POV Kylo Ren, Power Imbalance, Ren has a sense of entitlement that is truly concerning, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Unhealthy Relationships, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneandonlyzoom/pseuds/theoneandonlyzoom
Summary: Ren lingers for another long, uncomfortable moment. He wants Hux to remember this, the wall against his back, the scant distance between them. He wants Hux to remember how benevolent Ren has been to him thus far as co-commanders, how utterly composed.He wants Hux to remember it all sovividlywhen Ren inevitably puts him in his place.





	Entropy and Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was supposed to be a short introspective piece, but my hand slipped. Oops.
> 
> This is a stand-alone story, although it can be considered a companion piece to [This is how it goes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13214523), which was written from the perspective of Armitage Hux and is quite brief. This one is all Kylo Ren, spanning from pre-TFA to just after TLJ. Please, heed the tags and let me know if I should change any of them.
> 
> Brace yourselves…

His first impression of the man borders on favorable.

This is only because he observes Armitage Hux from afar, concurrently landing within the hanger bay of the _Subjugator_ during Ren’s first official visit as a member of High Command. General Hux is there for reasons yet unknown to Ren, as well as to the crew of the _Subjugator_ itself, evidently, judging by the mad scramble of officers to receive him. Ren only catches a glimpse of the chaos as he descends the ramp of his transporter: A slender figure wrapped in black. Quite young for a General. Too young, in fact.

He finds himself intrigued, if nothing else at all.

Hux’s unannounced arrival steals away the Brigadier General’s attention, leaving Colonel Yen to head the small retinue waiting for Ren on the polished black floor. A sea of white faces surrounds him, stormtroopers lined up like statues, as solid as stone. Ren himself is not a military man, but he senses something overtly mechanical about their composure. The contrast to the men and women who served under his mother, all colourful and loud inside their minds, is quite striking. Where he expected a miasma of thoughts and emotions, he is instead assaulted by a low-level thrum of hatred of the Resistance and a fanatically hive-minded compulsion for order. These people could almost pass for droids.

Of course, Ren knows about the stormtrooper programs, about their conditioning since birth, but it surprises him when he senses a similar self-identity in the majority of the younger officers. While they’re more capable of individuality, their stray thoughts turn toward the mundane. Very rarely does Ren catch a glimpse of anything unusual during his trip, save for a solitary thought in an ocean of grey, someone’s anxious pondering over the fate of the Brigadier General.

Unable to trace the thought back to its source, Ren is left wondering the same thing until his examination of the _Subjugator_ is complete. By then, he catches snippets of the man’s unexpected demotion through the various mental channels around him and a growing buzz of fear. He also learns that General Hux has already left the ship and is now en route to the _Supremacy_ , no doubt summoned by Snoke for a personal matter.

When Ren returns to his transporter, he receives a similar summons from Snoke. He wonders then if his master’s backhanded plan of introducing General Hux to him last of all the senior officers is somehow now a moot point. And if so, then why?

The next time he sees the General is before the end of the cycle, waiting outside the lift to Snoke’s audience chamber. The man is standing with his head slightly bowed, hands folded together behind his back. This time, he’s wearing gloves and a large coat over his uniform. He looks as though he is contemplating something particularly vexing.

Ren steps up beside him and openly admires the tawny shine of the General’s hair. He has never seen that color before.

Though he is wearing his mask, Ren expects the other man to acknowledge him. When he doesn’t, Ren feels a sliver of anger and indignation worming its way up his throat.

 _“You will look at me,”_ Ren says, dipping his fingers into the Force and feeding his will into the General. Like a puppet pulled into action with a jerk of its strings, Hux’s head snaps up and finally turns to face him.

Ren immediately revisits an old thought: General Hux is too young for his station. Ren knows a significant portion of First Order officers are carry-overs from the Empire and only a few have advanced in rank since then. Armitage Hux can’t be much older than Ren himself. He’s more likely the offspring of someone who served under Darth Sidious.

He takes a moment to stare into the General’s pale, piercing eyes before he closes his own and tries to calm his mind. He shouldn’t be losing himself to his impulses right outside his master’s doorstep. Snoke will be expecting better of him.

When Ren opens his eyes again, he’s greeted with the business end of a blaster rifle.

The General’s arm doesn’t waver in the slightest as he sizes Ren up. Shocked as he is by the General's defensive gesture, Ren doesn’t immediately know what to do.

Uncertain whether he could stop a shot from such close range, Ren first attempts to parse through the General’s surface thoughts to gauge how likely the man is to pull the trigger. When he’s met with guarded silence, he tries to pry a little deeper.

The leather of Hux’s glove creaks as his grip on the blaster tightens. A muscle in his jaw twitches. “How _dare_ you…”

In the face of such resistance, Ren opens his mouth to command the man to stop, but it is then that he feels an unusual pressure bearing down on him. Hux must feel it too. His arm trembles before he pulls it back in, wincing, saying something that is lost in the ringing of Ren’s ears.

As soon as it started, the assault ends, an unspoken warning from Snoke to behave. Coincidentally, the lift arrives.

Once he’s collected himself, Ren steps inside. General Hux hesitates, although Ren isn’t detecting fear. Instead, the General looks utterly composed, his blaster disappearing smoothly into the dark confines of his coat, eyes trained on Ren. The General’s hatred burns a white hot streak of excitement down Ren’s spine.

Most people wouldn’t dare to make their odium so apparent to him, let alone act on it. Instead, the General wears it like a badge. He glows with it; is made lovelier by it.

Ren’s impression of the man is quite favorable indeed.

At the same time, he is displeased with the blaster. He can’t blame the General for taking the opportunity to arm himself during Ren’s lapse in control, but his sheer audacity to pull a weapon on him is an unpleasant shock. In a sense, they have both mis-stepped here: Hux for his retaliation and Ren for giving him the opening to act.

Snoke, he thinks, will be most displeased.

But if he is, he doesn’t immediately show it. Upon their arrival in his chamber, Snoke scrutinizes them with his misshapen face, watery eyes tracking them quietly as they march side by side across the bridge. Once they arrive at the foot of Snoke’s throne, Kylo Ren lowers himself to one knee respectfully and rises again; Hux salutes him and addresses him by title. Together then they stand in silence, awaiting judgement.

Snoke leans back in his throne, hands flat against the armrests. His Praetorian Guard linger like ghosts in the background, red against red, ever at the ready.

“General Hux,” Snoke finally says. “I must advise you against drawing your weapon on your co-commander in the future.”

Ren feels a vice of humiliation and confusion squeeze his heart. Despite the reprimand, Ren is insulted by Snoke’s decision to address the General first. Furthermore, it stings to be brought down to the same level as a Force-null machination of the military, being made his 'co-commander' instead of his superior, as should be his right.

Fortunately, the General is no happier with the news. Ren can almost feel the heat rolling off him as he takes a soft, sharp, nasally inhalation of offence. However, he’s able to keep the tone of his voice level as he says, “Of course, Supreme Leader.”

Snoke’s glossy stare shifts to Ren. He feels that immense pressure again, subtle and brief. “I trust Lord Ren will do you the courtesy of not exercising his powers on you in such a manner ever again.”

Ren’s answer is automatic, even if it’s hard to deliver. “Yes, Master.”

“This is the High Command,” Snoke continues, making a small gesture with his right hand, referring to the three of them. “You would both learn well to cooperate.”

“Am I to assume Lord Ren now has command of First Order personnel and resources?” Hux asks, his tone almost accusatory, speaking out of turn.

Remarkably, Snoke doesn’t appear surprised by the outburst. Rather, he reacts as though this is the norm. “While his rank is equal to your own, his mission is unique. The resources he requires will be minimal, but I expect you to do everything in your power to provide him with whatever he deems necessary.” The corner of Snoke’s lip crooks with amusement, as though he finds the General’s concern truly humorous. “Lord Ren will have no reason to commandeer an entire Star Destroyer, I assure you.”

Hux shifts his weight from one foot to the other and says no more.

Ren wonders briefly if the General is the other apprentice Snoke has been referring to recently, his mysterious side-project. But then, what personal use does Snoke have for a Force-null?

Ren bats down his concerns as his master proceeds with the meat of their conversation, a briefing of where they each stand with their current tasks and what is expected of them in the near future. They each could’ve had this meeting with Snoke alone, but Ren knows the man is forcing open a gap in the wall between them, allowing each a glance of the other’s purpose in the grander scheme of things. To all outside appearances, he wants them to be on an even footing.

At the end of their discussion, the General alone is dismissed. He snaps his heels together in respect and pivots sharply around. Ren’s eyes linger on his copper hair as he marches out of sight, his sleek figure moving soundlessly across the bridge.

Once Hux is safely enclosed within the lift, Snoke turns his gaze to Ren. “You may observe,” his master says, “but you may not touch.”

“I—”

Snoke holds up a finger for silence. Ren tries, and fails, not to feel like a small child being chastised for what he considers only a natural compulsion. Snoke knows how he struggles with his temper. He has forgiven Ren for much worse than a little mental manipulation in the past.

“He was designed for this position,” Snoke says by way of explanation. “If you break him, I do not have the time to waste on generating a suitable replacement.”

Unfortunately, Ren finds this answer cryptic more than anything else. “He’s a clone?” he asks.

Snoke smiles and shakes his head no.

Ren frowns. “Is he aware of his importance? How do you hope to keep him in line if he does?”

“He might be aware,” Snoke ponders. His lack of concern is mildly alarming. “The promise of more power is always a strong incentive. As is freedom from pain and suffering. He’s not so difficult to rein in.”

Ren nods slowly in understanding. But another question remains: “Why is he my equal?”

“He is the First Order,” Snoke replies. Ren finds his answer dissatisfying. To heap such symbolism on a single person is a dangerous game to play. “He knows how to operate the military to our every advantage, regardless of his feelings on certain matters.”

Snoke’s offhand comment feels like a slap in the face. He should know that the General is a temperamental creature too. He has evidence of this from not too long ago. “He pulled his blaster on me,” Ren reminds him.

“He had no other choice,” Snoke counters smoothly. “He will not act against you unless provoked, Lord Ren. And when he does act, he will tailor his response appropriately. I wouldn’t have elevated him to such great heights if I wasn’t certain of this. Do you doubt me?”

“No,” Ren says quickly, bitterly. “Not at all.”

Snoke hums thoughtfully at him. “If you can learn to keep your composure with him, he will serve you well. Of that, I am certain.”

“But he’s resistant to manipulation,” he points out quietly. “Does that not concern you?”

“His father taught him a few tricks, but he can be manipulated.” Snoke’s eyes narrow slightly; Ren realizes this line of inquiry is being brought to an immediate end. “ _I_ can manipulate him.”

Ren bows his head.

Snoke dismisses him then with a wave of his hand. Ren kneels briefly and then rises again, taking his leave. His stomach burns at the thought of being anyone’s equal; a part of him much lower than that ignites at the thought of copper hair and green eyes.

He does his utmost best to continue thinking favorably of the General once he’s permanently assigned aboard the _Finalizer_.

~***~

His utmost best is not enough. While Ren spends most of his time away, undertaking his personal missions for Snoke, and while the General makes an obvious effort to avoid him in return, their joint meetings with Snoke in the holoprojection chamber are a constant, painful reminder of one another’s existence. General Hux does not go out of his way to make Ren’s life miserable, but he does nothing to hide his disgust for Ren either. It is not uncommon for him to spend their hour-long briefings pretending he is alone with the Supreme Leader, saying his part and no more. When Ren speaks, Hux refuses to spare him so much as a glance. To all outside appearances, he considers Ren a complete non-entity aboard his ship. 

And Snoke has nothing to say for his behaviour.

Ren realizes there is hardly any crossover between their duties, and so the lack of communication between them doesn’t put the General at a disadvantage. The man can afford to be petty. All the same, the gesture stings. His indifference reminds Ren too much of his time as Ben Solo, the boy shunned by both his parents until he was swept away into a decaying order that ultimately failed him.

Slowly, gradually, he forgets why he’s trying to maintain the peace between them. He will not be ignored.

And so the next time his temper flares, when the small squadron he sent out to collect intel on Luke Skywalker comes back empty handed, he sends them sprawling across the glossy floor of the hanger bay with a push from his mind and subsequently collapses the storage crate nearest to him. It crumbles inward as though succumbing to the force of a small wormhole. Ren pictures a gaping chasm at its centre and teases matter swiftly into it, gaze fixated on the warped metal as it curls and fractures under his will.

By the time he’s reduced it to one tenth of its original size, Captain Phasma has recollected her troopers into some semblance of order, keeping them well away from Ren and the object of his scorn. Fear blossoms in the minds of the men and women frantically trying to resume their work around him, soon accompanied by the barest whiff of relief. As soon as he senses it, Ren’s eyes scan the open space beside him. Eventually, he catches sight of General Armitage Hux.

Without his great coat, there is something distinctly feline in the way the General’s slender figure cuts the distance down between them with long, sinewy strides. The soles of his boots make no sound as they hit the floor, his appearance as sudden and unexpected as a ghost’s.

It has been so long since Hux _looked_ at him, Ren’s tongue is momentarily tied by the cold fury shining in the General’s eyes.

“This is unacceptable,” Hux hisses at him, voice no louder than usual. Ren marvels at how well he composes himself, even when he’s clearly livid. “What were you trying to achieve here?”

“It’s empty,” Ren counters coolly.

Hux continues his attempt to burn a hole through Ren’s mask. Without breaking his gaze, he points to the crumpled supply box, “ _This_ served a purpose,” he snaps. Then he moves his arm just enough to gesture to a small squadron in the distance. “ _They_ serve a purpose. If any one of them is to be maimed or killed, I should hope it’s at the hands of the Resistance alone. Do I make myself clear?”

After the General’s prolonged sentence of animosity toward him, Ren decides he prefers Hux’s ire to nothing else at all. It is a passion he understands well, a language he is quite proficient in.

It’s a reaction, at the very least.

“General,” he says, taking a step closer. Closer then he has any right to be. Ren feels something pleasant coiling around the base of his spine at their proximity and it spurns him on. “I was assured by the Supreme Leader that our resources were shared.”

“And I was assured your requirements would be minimal.”

“Yet you’ve failed to meet them,” he counters. “If I am to find Luke Skywalker, I need more men.”

“And you will have them— _if_ you can guarantee their safety.”

 _‘Soldiers do not march into battle for their own safety,’_ Ren thinks ironically, but he has no intention of killing Hux’s men. He will continue to batter them around as he sees fit, but he thinks he can skirt around the issue if he disrupts no one’s heartbeat.

After a moment, Ren finally says, “You have my word.”

Hux sizes him up, making an effort to show his disdain over the invasion of his personal space. “Then get to it,” he mutters before he turns and walks away.

Ren watches him as he goes, shifting through the General’s surface thoughts, knowing he can’t delve deeper without alerting the man to his presence. All he sees is a white room with no doors or windows. It’s blindingly bright in there.

And silent.

It’s as efficient a mental block as any Ren has seen before.

~***~

Hux’s priority is the _Starkiller_ base.

It’s his pride and joy. He’s been working on it since its conception, having had a heavy hand in designing it, long before he was a General. Ren imagines it’s the closet thing to grooming a beloved child that Hux will ever experience. Ren knows how eager both he and Snoke are to put it to good use.

When some important milestone is reached over the course of its construction, a small banquet is held at the base. An invitation is extended to Ren, of course, although personally he’s done nothing to push the project forward. He feels like a ghost at the feast, hovering in the halls as the officers dine, fingering through stray thoughts and heightened emotions. It’s the liveliest he’s seen the First Order outside the occasional dogfight against the Resistance. A mix of joy, dignity, and arousal permeates the air, punctuated with hints of fear whenever he is noticed in the periphery of the celebration.

Hux, of course, is not in the mess hall. Rather, he has been stolen aware to a private dinner in a much smaller room far down below. Ren is welcome to intrude, but he remains outside, where he can observe in peace. Out of sight, the wall around Hux’s mind has been lowered. Ren is still prevented from shifting freely through his memories, but he’ll still happily take this opportunity to glean whatever he can about the General.

And tonight, the General’s most pressing thought is _hunger_.

It’s a puzzling thing, but Ren closes his eyes and listens. He senses the lingering taste of food on Hux’s tongue, the nausea rising in the back of his throat. It is then that Ren realizes the food provided for the officers is too rich for the man, so he pries ever so gently at the edges of Hux’s psyche in an attempt to tease out the most natural explanation for his peculiar reaction.

He is rewarded with a series of vivid memories, most centered around the highly nutritious but utterly bland rations Hux has been fed all his life. He can’t stomach anything more flavorful or fatty, the one exception being tea. In fact, the most tantalizing thing Hux does with his palate is suck on a small piece of ice from time to time, particularly when he's stressed, something he’s been fond of doing since he was a small child. When he could sneak a bit of ice, of course. His father often frowned upon the habit.

Curiosity piqued, Ren wonders if the younger officers of the First Order were subjected to a program not too unlike the one the stormtroopers are put through. It would explain a number of things, in particular Snoke’s offhand remark concerning Hux’s _‘design’_ , as though he was tailor-made to become a General. He could very well be. The more Ren sees, the more he believes in this parallel policy.

He catches a glimpse of something equally intriguing when Hux apparently glances at his wine glass, still untouched. _Disulfiram_ , Hux thinks, unbidden. Ren doesn’t know what that is, but Hux provides the necessary details: a drug that induces unpleasant side-effects upon the consumption of alcohol. Growing up, every odd meal had been spiked with it to keep Hux on the straight and narrow. He’s always been completely dry. He’s still too afraid to touch so much as a drop of liquor.

There’s a first: _Fear_. Ren’s caught a whiff of anxiety from him before, briefly in their joint meetings with Snoke, but Hux has always been careful not to let anything substantial leak through. He is constantly vigilant against the Force. Ren wonders how the man doesn’t exhaust himself with the effort.

A little fear looks good on the General. It humanizes him, really.

Makes him seem soft and weak.

Ren wonders what elevates him.

Knowing now what Hux dislikes, he tries to guide the General’s mind toward his preferences. But already Hux’s mind is drifting toward his schedule for tomorrow. Back-to-back meetings and inspections, the usual tedium before he begins the next phase of _Starkiller_ ’s construction. Ren can’t budge him any more than he already has.

Idly, Ren wonders if the man would enjoy the wine if he were brave enough to try it. Likewise, he wonders what foods Hux would tend toward if he could stomach anything. Because in the absence of good food and wine, what does Hux really have left to enjoy? Does he ever read anything unrelated to his work? Does he listen to music? Does he engage in sex?

In all honestly, Hux might enjoy nothing much at all outside his work. But Ren is guilty of the same crime. When he isn’t running halfway across the galaxy in search of his old master, he’s meditating or training. There is nothing much aboard the _Finalizer_ to occupy him otherwise.

Except Hux.

~***~

Inevitably, he discovers Hux is not as dull as he once imagined.

The way in which he makes this discovery is both pleasant and decidedly _…not._ They’ve returned to  _Starkiller_ for another inspection, one of many that will be made in the near future, considering how close they are to completion. Hux would’ve rather gone alone given how strained their relationship still is, but Ren persists. He thrives on Hux’s anger. Teasing it out of him has become something of a hobby.

Even so, Hux is able to lose him near the end of the second day of his inspection while Ren is occupied with a personal audience in Snoke’s holochamber. Given the sheer size of _the base,_  Ren doesn’t have a hope of finding him before nightfall, so he wanders the halls in half a trance, reaching out in search of _some_ sign of his old master in the universe. Occasionally, something trickles through their frayed connection. Pain, mostly. And regret.

But never from Ren.

His consciousness is spread so far and wide that he catches snippets from other people, including, eventually, Hux. The General’s thoughts have a unique signature, a sharper edge, a kind of burning cold that sears a potent after-image in Ren’s mind. He senses anger at first, vibrant and unforgiving, followed almost immediately by shock. What comes next is a war of emotions Ren has no hope of deciphering.

His first assumption is that the man might be under attack. Ren is not a servant of the First Order, but it goes without saying that it’s in his best interests to follow the Order’s wishes, maintaining the General’s safety included. He therefore alters his course and searches the man out.

Hux isn’t far, tucked away around the bend of a long, dimly lit corridor. This area is still under construction and relatively free of personnel. But he’s not alone. Ren senses another presence, marked by a twinge of anxiety before a heady wave of arousal washes over him.

Hux is calmer now.

Ren’s legs begin to feel like lead weights. He slows to a halt, trying to make sense of the emotions humming along the tendril of the Force connecting them. It’s a sip of something warmer than he’s used to, nothing he’s ever associated with the General before. Not love, per se, but certainly affection. Comfort. And excitement.

Hux is extremely fond of this person.

Ren backtracks a few steps and ducks down a connecting corridor. Inside him, somewhere, a void opens, sucking in all traces of light. His fingertips and mouth are numb, his arms and tongue dead weights, weighing him down, down, down where nobody on the outside dares go…

The exchange between Hux and his companion, whatever it entails, is brief. Dimly, Ren is aware of Hux marching down the corridor, passing Ren’s hiding spot at a brisk pace. After a minute, his companion follows suit.

Ren tails him.

The man is a Vice Admiral, not much older than Hux himself. Broad-shouldered and blond. Quiet. Ren can’t remember his name, but he does remember seeing him during previous inspections. Ren wonders if he’s another one of those people custom-designed for greatness. He must be if Hux enjoys his company. Ren knows the General doesn’t like much of anyone, but people who suffer similar pasts tend to flock together. Shared pain is a potent spark for desire, after all.

And desires Hux this man does. His thoughts are consumed by the General as he disappears into his quarters and settles down for the night. Ren waits until he’s perched on the precipice of sleep before he slips deeper into his mind, rearranging thoughts and sensations to promote the narrative of this man’s past experiences with the General. The void is still gaping inside Ren, but something akin to apprehension pierces through the fog of his mind. He doesn’t know what he’s going to find, and he almost doesn’t want to know.

Almost.

He’s greeted with an old memory, faint at first, nothing more than smudges of color against a dark background. Then there is movement and soft-spoken words. A sharp inhalation followed by a low grumble. Through the Vice Admiral’s eyes, Ren is slowly introduced to a secret world, pale thighs straddling his waist, warmth and pleasure coiling in his loins. A gentle rocking of the hips, green eyes half-lidded and fixed on him, Ren beholds Armitage Hux above him. But it isn’t Ren’s face peering up at this visage, nor are these his hands gripping the General’s thighs. He is an intruder in this illicit affair, a most private moment shared between two vulnerable men.

A sharp thrill runs down his spine, chased readily by self-disgust and guilt. He retreats to his own quarters, but the memory stalks him there, the image of the General naked and weak and liberated burned into his mind. And young. So _very_ young. There was a sense of urgency and fear in his frantic exchange with the Vice Admiral, accented by the excitement of getting caught. Knowing without really knowing, Ren gets the impression Hux engaged in intercourse with the other man both to spite and in spite of his father. Neither was motivated by love. Only mutual appreciation and respect.

They fucked for no other reason than it was forbidden.

At least, that’s how it began. After tonight’s demonstration, Ren assumes they might be tempted to resume their affair if the opportunity presented itself. If they haven’t already. After all, they’ve clearly kept in touch.

Ren removes his helmet, cloak, and gloves and lies back on his bed. His mattress feels cold through his robes. The void is no longer there inside him, but the numbness remains, a gentle buzz to drown out the sound of his true emotions. He feels stunned, though he doesn’t know why. The act of sex shouldn’t faze him. Though celibate for many years during his tutelage under Skywalker, it was one of the first virtues he did away with once he broke free. A few frantic fumblings helped to shatter his imaginary chains. Like Hux, it was the first of many steps in his long overdue liberation.

Given the unity that should exist between them, Ren wonders why they haven’t fallen into a similar routine together yet. They are more similar than Hux realizes. The excessive passion is certainly there. It need only be molded into something a little more productive.

But Ren knows the General would scoff at such an offer. Hux loathes him. He would never put himself in such a vulnerable position with Ren unless his life depended upon it.

In the face of the General’s perceived arrogance and pride, Ren feels no shame when he reaches down and takes himself in hand, eager to put an end to his turmoil. In fact, he feels quite justified in wading back into that stolen memory. If only Hux could learn to open himself up to Ren, he believes they would fit quite well together.

Now that Ren’s seen Hux at his weakest, he feels like they could already be halfway there.

He tries to make quick work of it, because yet another emotion is beginning to leak through, one he’s not ready to face. Jealousy, the wicked beast. He has not forgotten that this memory comes from another man, one worth less than the dirt on the soles of his boots. This perfect stranger was freely given the softness at the corner of Hux’s eyes; took and spent his pleasure between Hux’s thighs. He somehow stirred Hux’s arousal again tonight. And with what, Ren would like to know. A few choice words? A gentle caress? If it’s true Hux was designed for greatness, then he shouldn’t allow himself to be swayed by the whims of a subordinate. He should have higher aspirations.

Passion spent, Ren stares up at the dark ceiling and tries to focus on something else: a dark ocean, almost completely still at the surface, mirroring the starry sky above. It gives the illusion of space, so vast and all-consuming, yet still warped along the horizon by tiny ripples. It is cold and quiet here. Peaceful.

In the morning, Ren is waiting for the Vice Admiral when he leaves his quarters. The man makes it three paces down the corridor before his throat seizes up, wide eyes falling on Ren’s masked face as he materializes before him. Confusion and fear are brought to the forefront of his mind as he mentally retraces his steps from the day before, wondering where he went wrong.

Ren could reach inside his chest with the Force, massage his heart, stutter its delicate rhythm…but he doesn’t. Instead, he releases his hold, strolling forward as the man collapses to his knees, chest heaving, eyes fixed on Ren.

“You will not distract the General,” Ren says, the rough edge of his voice lost in the inhuman hiss of his vocorder. He wishes there was a more potent way to express his resentment. “Do you understand?”

Realization blossoms in the man’s face and mind. Urgently, he nods.

Satisfied, Ren turns away.

The sooner they return to the _Finalizer_ , the better.

~***~

One thing Ren has always appreciated about Hux is his unparalleled military acumen.

He is a genius when it comes to warfare, both on the battlefield and beyond. The victories he accumulates during these sporadic squabbles with the Resistance are entirely unilateral. Ren often joins the action in his TIE-fighter, but he is quite lately content to haunt the far back of the command bridge instead, observing the General in his element. Hux doesn’t seem to care what he does either way. He lets all his unbridled fury shine through when he screams _‘fire_! _’_ , unaware of the dark eyes that trace his graceful saunter to and from the viewport. And when he wins, Hux might allow himself a small smirk as he glances down at the timepiece on his wrist. Ren wonders if there is some personal joke behind the habit.

Whenever he watches the General exercise his demons, he feels marginally closer to him. Lately, in fact, he’s discovered some overall form of serenity. His moments of calm are still few and far between, but he finds his mood improving overall the farther along his search for Luke progresses. One could almost argue he’s beginning to find his stride.

Perhaps this is a foolish thought. It certainly spurs him on to do foolish things, such as following Hux off the bridge like a silent spectre, hunting him all the way to his quarters. Hux passes through the threshold into his room without knowing Ren is behind him, not yet aware of his visitor until he realizes the door takes a second too long to hiss shut. Then he pivots sharply, in the midst of tugging his left glove off, gaze automatically drawn to Ren’s waist, checking for his light saber. It isn’t there.

“By all means,” Hux mutters, pulling off his other glove, “come in.” He tosses them onto his desk, thinking, _‘what have you broken now?’_ before he erects his mental defences. The white room floods Ren’s vision.

Faintly, he hears something like a quiet sob echoing inside of it. As if from a child.

“Well?” Hux presses, folding his hands neatly together behind his back, ramrod straight, not a hair out of place.

Slowly, Ren reaches up to remove his helmet, thumbing open the clasps. There’s a soft hiss of air as they release. He tucks it under his left arm as soon as he pulls it off, his unruly hair clinging to the side of his face, watching Hux carefully for his reaction, fleeting as it might be.

And it is fleeting, no more than a brief softening at the corner of Hux’s mouth and eyes, marked by confusion and surprise. Hux tilts his head back ever so slightly, the way he usually does when he’s faced with a conundrum.

“Did you forget I was human?” Ren murmurs. A common rumor aboard the _Finalizer_ is that he is more machine than man, much like Vader was at the time of his death. Ren has done nothing to discourage this belief.

“I forgot you were so young,” Hux sighs in return, an unexpected insult considering how close they are in age. “Given your temperament, I don’t know why this surprises me.”

Ren finds it hard not to be irritated by his lack of his respect. It’s the first time he has shown his face to anyone in the First Order. This seemingly simple gesture is supposed to be seen as an honor. A peace offering.

A _gift_.

The only reason he’s able to stamp down his bubbling rage is by reminding himself that a much greater part of Hux has already been exposed to him through the Vice Admiral without his knowledge or consent. Ren still holds the high ground here. He is merely returning part of the favor.

Nevertheless, Hux has ruined the moment. The awkward silence between them stretches on for a small eternity until Ren finally relents: “Do you know who Lor San Tekka is?”

Hux’s gaze momentarily fogs over as he focuses on a tidbit of information in the metaphorical middle distance of his consciousness. The General’s mind is something of a computer in that respect, storing a wealth of information for immediate retrieval. It’s as sharp as the monomolecular blade strapped to the General’s wrist and just as deadly. Ren only wishes he could explore it at his leisure.

“An old ally of the New Republic,” Hux replies. “A close friend of Leia Organa.”

It’s strange to hear his mother’s name on Hux’s lips, especially since the man is well aware of his lineage. Snoke was quite adamant about getting that information out into the open, partly to demonstrate how flawed Organa’s opinion of the First Order is if even her own son is willing to take up arms against her. The lack of a jab on Hux’s part could almost be seen as a sign of respect.

“And Luke Skywalker,” Ren adds, a little of the tension in his shoulders melting away. “He supposedly has a map to a secret retreat once utilized by the Jedi. I need to question him.”

Hux’s expression softens once again, obviously pleased by his progress. “Where is he presently?”

“Jakku.”

All at once, his face hardens. Ren already suspected their current distance from the planet would be an issue, but he was hoping Hux wouldn’t kick up too much of a fuss over it. “Then you’ll have to wait. We’re already en route to the _Starkiller_ base.”

“Your weapon isn’t going anywhere,” Ren snaps, ire rising.

“And neither is Tekka if he’s really living on that backwater planet.” Hux brushes past him toward the door, waving his hand over the control panel to urge it open. It’s as bold a dismal as any Hux has delivered to him before.

However, Ren keeps the door shut with his mind, its inner mechanism whining faintly at the unusual resistance before giving up altogether. Hux gives it a curious side-long glance before he seems to remember Ren can use the Force.

Taking advantage of Hux’s brief confusion, Ren steps forward into his space, crowding him up against the wall. It’s too easy for him remember who has the upper hand here, both physically and mentally. Hux’s uniform does nothing to hide his smaller, weaker form.

“Why are you so willing to delay my mission?” Ren asks, anger simmering under the first faint blush of arousal between his legs. He finds it hard not to feel powerful looming over the other man like this, all irritation aside.

“Why are you so eager to drag your old mentor out of the ditch and into this war?” Hux parries stiffly. He tilts his chin up at Ren defiantly, but with the height difference between them it only opens his face perfectly to Ren. “He brought the Empire to its knees. If he’s content to stay out of our affairs, then he has my blessing.”

“Finding him is the will of the Supreme Leader,” Ren reminds him hotly. “Or are you disobeying a direct order?”

“You _know_ how difficult it is for us to suddenly stop, refuel, and change course,” Hux hisses. And indeed, it is. Considering the First Order is still trying to lay low, visiting the planets it’s already allied itself with for supplies as little as possible until _Starkiller’s_ grand debut has been the unspoken mission of the fleet. “Don’t be dense.”

Ren edges closer; Hux stiffens further, if such a thing were possible.

The General is afraid.

As he should be. Ren could so easily drag him to the ground, break him apart slowly, unleash every wicked delight upon him…He could take anything he wanted, really. Endlessly.

And there’s nothing Hux could do to stop him.

The _only_ thing stopping him is, in fact, the Supreme Leader, his master’s order to observe but not touch still ringing in his ears.

Ren sometimes wonders if being assigned Hux’s co-commander was always supposed to be such a hellish ordeal.

“Besides,” Hux continues, pushing himself through the haze of fear, soldiering on, as usual, “how long ago was he spotted on Jakku? I’m not wasting fuel on a hunch.”

“Not long,” Ren replies, although he doesn’t know if that’s true. The intel _is_ old.

Unfortunately, Hux has always been good at sniffing out a lie with his officers, and he seems to have an easier time detecting Ren’s fabrications without the mask on if the way the General’s face darkens is anything to go by. “Then I will discuss it with the Supreme Leader.”

“When?” Ren asks. Hux has been having too many private meetings with Snoke as of late. Of course, Ren has his own private meetings with his master to keep on top of his training, but he isn’t comfortable with the idea of Hux being privy to information that he isn’t. Snoke has no reason to keep secrets of the First Order from Ren.

After all, it’s only the three of them that make up the High Command.

“Soon,” Hux breathes, a blatant mockery of Ren’s equally vague answer. “Now, would it be too much to ask you to _leave_? I have work to do.”

Ren lingers for another long, uncomfortable moment. He wants Hux to remember _this_ , the wall against his back, the scant distance between them as they try to stare one another down. He wants Hux to remember how benevolent Ren has been to him so far as co-commanders, how utterly composed.

He wants Hux to remember it all so _vividly_ when Ren inevitably puts him in his place.

Without looking, Hux waves his hand over the control panel again. The door slides open with an anticlimactic _whoosh_.

“Get out,” Hux growls.

Ren takes his leave.

But he continues to linger. He keeps a proverbial eye out for Hux a little later in the cycle when the General disappears into the holoprojection chamber. Ren lets him have a quarter of a standard hour uninterrupted before he bursts into the chamber himself, cutting Hux off mid-sentence with his entrance. Because Hux is conversing with the Supreme Leader, his mental defenses have been voluntarily lowered, the white room tucked away safely for the time being. In its place, Ren sees a flash of his monomolecular blade; senses the man’s desire to plunge it into Ren’s heart.

Snoke laughs, seemingly to himself, the sound echoing in the dark room.

“Master,” Ren says, kneeling briefly. As he rises, he can feel Hux’s eyes burning into him. “I’ve uncovered the location of the map to Skywalker.”

“Yes, on Jakku,” Snoke replies, waving his hand toward Hux. “I think the General better understands the importance of your mission now.”

Ren glances at Hux.

Agitated, Hux finally tears his eyes away.

Evidently, the General lost whatever argument he tried to lay before the Supreme Leader prior to this interruption.

Ren can almost forget how angry he was earlier in the face of this small victory. He tries not to smile as he nods gratefully at his master.

Soured by his defeat, Hux clears his throat and says, “Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Supreme Leader?”

“You are dismissed, General.”

Hux clicks his heels together sharply, bows his head, and promptly exits the chamber. Normally, he moves silently and gracefully across the bridge, but today the vicious click of Hux’s heels against the polished floor seems to resonant throughout the hall.

Ren finally allows something of a smile to grace his lips.

“Don’t congratulate yourself yet,” Snoke interjects, but he says it in a bemused sort of way. Ren doesn’t quite feel as though the man is truly admonishing him. “You came close to overstepping your boundaries with the General. I already warned you to tread carefully with him.”

Shame burns at the back of his throat. He _knows_ Snoke can always see his desires, but Ren can’t help what he feels, however primitive those desires might be. Admittedly, it’s just one of the ways in which he’s failed to mature.

His body wants what it wants.

“I won’t act on my…impulses,” Ren pledges. If need be, he _will_ find a way to let this issue with the General go.

“Why not?” Snoke laughs, as though he has the key to some puzzle Ren didn’t realize he was in the midst of deciphering. “When the First Order finally rises from animosity, you will have a better opportunity to re-negotiate your relationship with the General. Perhaps not in the manner you envisioned, but the General is a natural strategist and can be persuaded with more civilized tactics. As I’ve said before, with the right touch, he could learn to serve you well.”

Ren feels something stupidly similar to hope fizzle to life inside his chest. “You would not be… _opposed_ to a closer relationship between the General and myself?”

“Why would I be opposed?” 

Ren finds he has trouble answering the man out loud. Shame still coats the back of his throat, impeding his ability to adequately voice his concerns.

But he doesn’t need to because Snoke is already fitting together his fragmented thoughts. It feels like a slim needle poking around behind his eyes, unpleasant but not entirely painful. Regardless, the sensation sends a chill down his spine.

“Love is a weakness,” his master solemnly agrees. “But Armitage Hux loves no one. In fact, there is no force in the universe that could ever compel him to love anyone.” Snoke smiles then, as though this is one of the few things he finds most agreeable about the man. “See this as an exercise in manipulation. You may offer him something to entice him, but you should likewise make your leverage over him abundantly clear. Fear is an important component in all transactions. Don’t let him forget who or what you are.”

Ren wonders how it would burn Hux up inside to know Snoke had no qualms about handing him over like some kind of prize. The indignity would cripple him at best; prompt some form of retaliation at worst, with neither scenario being favorable considering how important Hux is in the grander scheme of things. Ren’s seen evidence enough of the General’s contributions to their work.

“But you aren’t concerned about his feelings at all, are you?” Snoke leans back in his throne, head cocked curiously to one side. “Are _you_ still capable of love, I wonder?”

“What’s there to love?” Ren all but snaps, jaw tensing, pain flaring in his chest. He knows Snoke will demand proof of this statement sooner or later, and Ren has every intention of delivering.

Armitage Hux isn’t the only man with a heart of stone.

~***~

And yet, killing Han Solo is not as triumphant an experience as he was hoping.

It feels less like a victory and more like a culling of one’s self, a necessary amputation of the soul. He is carving out the gangrenous bits of Ben Solo to give his new identity room to flourish, but all he feels is hollowed out, having nothing yet with which to fill the empty space. He’s been defined by his anger so long, he doesn’t have anything else to give. Just more of the same…

He wishes he understood why the girl with nothing somehow knew herself better than he knew Kylo Ren.

He thinks of her too much as he wavers in and out of consciousness. He is bleeding profusely and feverish, only half-conscious of the fact that he is on a transporter, surrounded by stormtroopers and medical personnel.

Armitage Hux hovers over him like a Harbinger of Death.

He could be an illusion for all Ren knows, but upon further inspection he realizes that the man is flesh and bone. He doesn’t bat Ren away with an image of a white room when he probes the General’s mind this time. Instead, his thoughts are consumed with the destruction of the  _Starkiller_ base, his greatest achievement crashing down around him like a house of cards. Though he succeeded in destroying the Hosnian system—an unparalleled victory in any species’ military history—he’s been hollowed out by its demise. He designed it himself and painstakingly oversaw its construction. And now it’s gone.

Hux stares down at Ren with an indecipherable look gleaming in his eyes. It takes Ren a moment to realize Hux is actually staring straight through him, gaze lingering in the middle distance. He’s aggrieved, but he’s boxing up his emotions before they can get the better of him, trying to maintain his composure, all steel and ice and unflinching determination.

“Where are we going?” Ren asks. His voice sounds a million miles away inside his head.

“The _Supremacy_ ,” is the General’s faint response. “Your master wants you to continue your training.”

Snoke, Ren knows, will not be pleased with them.

~***~

Which is putting it lightly.

Snoke’s disappointment in Ren hangs heavily above his head, a physical presence constantly bearing him down. Snoke also outright assaults Hux on the command bridge, something, to Ren’s knowledge, he has only done once before, back when Ben Solo was still laboring over his delusions of inner peace. The Supreme Leader slams the General against the floor hard enough to concuss him, though Hux hides it well. There’s a screaming pain inside his head that Ren picks up on with no trouble at all, but none of the other officers are aware of it.

Not surprisingly, Hux is able to spin things back to his advantage. He’s automatically installed as the commander of the _Supremacy_ the moment he sets foot aboard the ship and he immediately takes off after the Resistance, stalking them at a distance, wearing away at them cycle after cycle as they eat up their fuel. Ren spends this time in his own personal hell, bickering with somebody else who hates him with every fibre of their being, although the girl, at least, doesn’t try to force him out of her mind. Their connection, alarming as it might be, is the first time Ren has been able to reach out to someone without having his proverbial hand slapped away. It’s a heady sensation, knowing that they are each compelled to listen to one another, an experience he is more than happy to indulge in.

He doesn’t understand the nature of their unusual connection or how it came to be, but between his visions of Rey, he begins wondering about the only other figurative connection in his life.

He seeks Hux out when he knows his shift on the bridge has ended, great coat hanging off his shoulders like a cape as he strolls slowly through the corridors to his quarters. Ren pulls up beside him. Hux finally takes the effort to turn his head, hold Ren’s gaze for a split second, and nod in acknowledgement.

“Have you found her yet?” Hux asks, already well aware of the fact that the Millennium Falcon is not among the small fleet of Resistance ships sailing toward their demise.

“I haven’t been able to pinpoint her location.”

Hux sighs, sounding bone-weary and deflated. “Can you strangle her and her companions from afar when you do?”

“Wouldn’t you much rather kill her yourself?” Ren asks, bemused. After all, _Starkiller_ was Hux’s pride and joy.

“As much as I would enjoy that, practicality comes before pleasure, Ren. When the opportunity presents itself, do away with them at once. Don’t hesitate.”

That’s common sense, of course, but a part of him doesn’t want to kill her. He doesn’t know why.

He hates to think it might be because he’s…lonely.

“Did you need something?” Hux presses. Remarkably, there’s no bite to his voice. He sounds as though he would very much like to sleep right now. “I thought you were supposed to be training.”

“Mandatory break,” Ren supplies, which isn’t entirely untrue. He needs to get out of his head every now and again, especially since Rey’s surprise visits during his meditation periods have started up. He can’t be entirely sure she isn’t the one forcing the connection.

Hux glances at him once again. His surface thoughts murmur, _‘Entropy_ ’.

“What are you thinking?” Ren presses.

“As if you don’t already know,” Hux scoffs. However, he elaborates. “I was thinking of thermodynamics. Entropy. Chaos…”

“What about it?”

“About how in a closed system, entropy can only increase.”

“Meaning?”

Hux slows to a halt, turning halfway to face him. At this angle, Ren can see the faint bruises under his eyes. Insomnia and head trauma.

He looks a little like death personified. 

“You’re building up to something,” Hux says at long last. “I can feel it.”

Ren wonders if he’s somehow projected the fact that he’s been speaking with the girl, that he sees a promising future with her as his ally. These are treasonous thoughts, after all, considering the blow she and the resistance delivered to the First Order.

He feels naked under Hux’s gaze without his mask, hoping he betrays nothing with his face. He has to remind himself that Hux is a Force-null, that he can’t see anything beyond what Ren openly displays to him.

Hux is only grasping at straws here.

And yet, the General is an intuitive man. Had to be to survive the cutthroat culture of the First Order. Ren surmises this is why Hux looks so certain of himself as he says, “Whether or not you’re aware of it yet, your actions are going to end in catastrophe. For all of us.”

“Is this why you dislike me so much?” Ren replies flatly. He’s so tired of being rebuffed. “You think I want to destroy you?”

“No. I ‘dislike’ you because you have everything you’ve ever wanted and yet you _still_ want more.” Hux’s bright eyes bore into him, a cold and familiar fury brewing there. “You’re an insatiable force in an unsustainable system. I wish Snoke had left you out of the First Order’s affairs altogether.”

Ren wonders if Hux knows how ravenous he really is. Or the true nature of his appetite.

“I offer as much as I take,” he argues. “Don’t pretend I haven’t contributed to your cause.”

“You mean _our_ cause, don’t you?” A muscle in the corner of Hux’s jaw twitches. He looks so insufferably divine at the height of his ire. “But that’s just my point. You haven’t been sold on _our_ cause yet, so it’s only a matter of time before you withdraw your assistance. At least where it matters most.”

“I didn’t know my efforts mattered at all,” Ren replies, more on impulse than anything.

Hux seems to realize he’s slipped up, revealed something of a weakness. He tears his eyes away from Ren and commences on his journey to his berth.

Ren remains where he is, eyes pinned on the back of the General’s fiery head. He feels adrift in a sea, the waves rolling madly all around him, rushing in his ears.

He resists the urge to plant his fist in the nearest wall and instead storms back to his own quarters, wondering, against his will, when Rey will come to liven him up again.

~***~

But Rey is another dead end.

She’s a Jedi in every meaning of the word, blinded by the Light, grasping at him like a drowning woman hoping to sell him salvation at the bottom of the sea. He fights first _for_ her and then against her, feeling the last bit of humanity crumbling inside his chest when she makes her final decision. In the aftermath of their battle, she sends his mind careening into a dark corner of the universe, somewhere the light can never reach him again.

He stays there for a while, somewhat removed from the pain that lances through his body. In fact, the first thing he becomes aware of is not himself, but rather Hux, broadcasting his thoughts without a care in the world. He is considering battle plans, trying to place people on a map. But for what battle?

Slowly, it occurs to Ren that Hux is not preparing for a new battle. Rather, he is trying to reconstruct one, guessing at the number of assailants and their exact positions in Snoke’s throne room. Hux knows the girl was brought in here, but he has serious doubts about her acting alone. The only thing stopping him from fully accepting the idea that Ren had any hand in this ghastly affair is the fact that Hux knows the Force can be used from afar. The General knows the girl could’ve, in theory, killed everyone in this chamber.

Then why not Ren?

Hux’s thoughts go dark for a moment. An indescribable rage wells up inside him. And fear. He’s reached a point where he believes he can no longer speculate, where he must take the reins before the rest of the First Order’s plans fly out of control.

Ren finally forces his mind back into his body, struggling to his feet before subsequently bringing the General to his knees, choking him for his insubordination; choking him because he is _right_. Predictably, Hux folds to his will, no stranger to pain or subjugation. Snoke is no longer there to protect him from Kylo Ren.

Hux must tread carefully if he wants to survive Ren’s ire.

Long live the new Supreme Leader indeed.

~***~

He tries not to be bitter when Luke and the Resistance escape.

He could have all the power he ever hoped for, but he’s too afraid of the past clawing its way out of the grave to let everything go. He knows the First Order still has plans to proceed, with or without Snoke at the helm, but Ren doesn’t buy into their petty politics anymore. For all his show of power, Snoke turned out to be nothing more than an weak and withered fool. Ren doesn’t trust anyone to bring the universe to heel the way he would prefer.

However, even as the Supreme Leader, Ren doesn’t feel as though the Order is his to command. Everyone serving under its banner knows enough of him to fear him, but _not_ enough to quench thoughts of dissent. He knows there are a fraction of people who wonder why Hux hasn’t made an attempt for the throne yet, and a significant portion who wonder how long before Hux actually does. A handful of these are currently brainstorming a way to make that happen.

But the answer to their question is remarkably simple: Hux is not a fool. At least, not in the way Snoke was. Ambitious? Certainly, but he’s seen what Ren is capable of and is wise enough to realize he can’t compete. The best he can do is bow his head and carry on, to nurture enough respect from Ren to continue steering the First Order along its original course.

For that reason, Ren isn’t concerned about Hux; the others he knows he needs to do away with. Therefore, he calls his Knights to arms and sets about cleansing the stock of the First Order, first in the farthest fringes of the known universe and working his way back to the _Finalizer_. He cuts down the boldest of the officers and replaces them with younger, fresher faces. These are the fanatics from Hux’s generation of soldiers, all sold on the furor of the First Order. So long as the promise of victory continues to ring throughout the stars, they don’t care who wears the crown. They’ve all seen the General’s glowing face broadcasted before he put _Starkiller_ to the test and know that the Hosnian system has been laid to waste by their collective hand. If Hux is behind Ren, then they have no problem similarly falling in line.

Ren has always known Hux’s importance, but he is also aware of the man’s lingering uncertainty. Hux came to power by slitting a few throats; he has every reason to believe Ren might crush his in a fit of rage.

But he won’t.

When Ren returns to the _Finalizer_ , he collects all the information detailing the next steps in Snoke’s master plan and selects for himself a new room. Larger, but not obnoxiously so. Ren was rich in material goods as a boy and he has no desire to return to that lifestyle. His quarters are only new because of the damage dealt to his previous rooms when the _Supremacy_ was fractured and sent careening into its surrounding support ships; larger, because he will be sharing this space with Hux, at least on occasion.

Feeling as though he finally has a grasp on things, that he’s in the right frame of mind to proceed, he alerts Hux to his return and makes a formal request for his presence. The young officer tasked with delivering the message stares at him with the usual mix of fear and reverence, but when he salutes Ren as Supreme Leader and turns away there’s a greater touch of the latter on his mind.

Alone in the dim light of his room, Ren sits at his desk and glances over the datapad in his hands. He doesn’t consciously read anything of substance. He's distracted by the buzzing in his mind, a pull of warmth from his groin to the crown of his head. It’s how he usually feels when he uses the Force; when he knows he’s about to get something he wants.

General Hux appears promptly. Ren can hear his thoughts before he steps through the threshold. Sleep deprived, concussed, and in shock, he still somehow manages to look every bit the man who has everything under control. The dark circles under his eyes have faded since they last spoke.

Standing there in his sleek black uniform, not a hair out of place, Ren has the sudden urge to break him apart.

And he will.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux salutes.

Ren rises from his seat; feels a spike of fear from Hux.

Good.

“Snoke had plans beyond _Starkiller_ ,” Ren says, deciding to begin with familiar ground. Hux is a military man, first and foremost. He only every enjoys talking business. “Plans that only the two of you were privy to. Until his death.”

“Yes,” Hux admits.

“I have a few concerns, but otherwise I approve.”

“What are your concerns?”

“They pertain mostly to leadership.”

No spike of fear this time. Hux was expecting this.

However, he was not expecting Ren to disarm him. The monomolecular blade slips off his wrist and into Ren’s outstretched hand with an audible snap. Surprise colors Hux’s face; he hadn’t been consciously thinking of it.

“You would think of it often during our meetings with Snoke.” Ren turns the retracted blade over in his hands, marveling at its light weight and design. He wants to snap it in half, but instead he drops in on top of his desk beside his datapad. There is an empty shelf in the corner that he has yet to fill. Later, he will move it there so that Hux can see it every time he walks through the door, to remind him of how powerless he is in Ren’s domain. “You wanted to plunge it into my heart; I wanted to destroy it. But he said I wasn’t allowed to touch you or your things just yet.”

Hux imagines this is the point where Ren means to kill him.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Ren continues, softly, fighting back a smile. “I never wanted to kill you.”

“Needs must,” Hux murmurs, clinical and cold, as though there is no other alternative.

“I could,” Ren clarifies, “I already have the First Order under my thumb. I set myself upon the task of reminding everyone these last few cycles. But there is a difference between what I need to do and what I want to do, and now that I have the power, those two things can finally become one and the same.”

Hux is openly confused, so Ren tries another route: “Why do you want to be in power so badly, Armitage?”

Finally then, Hux’s thoughts coalesce into a familiar framework. Hux knows he’s a product of the First Order, a living thing modeled by his father into an overly ambitious young man and kin-slayer. Hux climbed the ranks both to save his life and to grasp for the other end of his leash, propelled by the desire to finally make his destiny his own.

Ren takes a small amount of pleasure watching Hux come to the realization that he only cemented his fate by trying to do just that. He was always going to wind up as a General of the First Order, Snoke’s lackey and Ren’s co-commander. He was always going to wind up in this room, beholden to Ren and willing to do anything to keep the wretched wheel of his life turning.

Ren pushes that revelation a step further. They squabble a moment longer before Ren closes the distance between them, crowding him up against the door. Ren kisses him. Hux yearns to bite, but he has better sense than that. Or maybe it’s shock that keeps him pliant. In all the horrors Hux imagined finding here tonight, this scenario never once crossed his mind.

But he yields marvelously to the blow. Let’s Ren pull him across the room and down onto the starch-stiff sheets of his bed. He doesn’t fight against the hands that tear the uniform from his slender frame, the pale form that haunted Ren’s dreams now made real before his very eyes. There are bruises along his left hip and ribs where he collided with the console in the AT-AT on Crait and a dark ring of phantom fingers along his throat from their encounter in the throne room. He is a perfect, pale creature made better by his flaws, fire still blazing in his eyes.

Ren covers his naked form with his own and takes the General with an urgency he can’t quite explain. He knows Hux is silently fuming at the unfairness of having Ren, of all the men in the universe, fumbling between his legs. That he is both angered and in pain over Ren’s uncoordinated efforts to slip inside him and rut out his pleasure. There's still a sense of naivety to Ren’s rhythm, so he reaches out with his mind in an effort to ease the process. Armitage simultaneously reaches between them to take himself in hand, knees bracketing Ren’s ribs, thighs quivering as he pulls an orgasm from the void inside himself. Arching back, tightening around his companion, Ren is dragged along with him. His hips stutter weakly as he finds completion at long last.

Warmth and weakness flood his arms and legs, but he keeps himself braced above Armitage’s shuddering form, giving him room to breathe. He promises himself he will be gentler next time, more attentive. But this, for now, feels fine. Feels more than fine, although Hux already thinks of him enough as a child without having Ren openly gloating over him. Armitage must leave here with some of his dignity intact if this is ever to work between them.

“Are we agreed,” Ren murmurs, finding it prudent that he still remind the man how he wound up on his back in the first place.

Armitage reaches up to wrap his hands around the back of Ren's neck, just staring at him quietly. Part of the man wants to strangle him, but there’s another part of him that almost admires Ren now, as though he sees potential where he once found nothing.

Pinned by the intensity of Armitage’s gaze, Ren finds himself slowly hardening inside his companion again.

“Long live the Supreme Leader,” Armitage whispers in return, canting his hips appropriately, easing the way for their next coupling.

~***~

It’s been a standard year, and still no sign of Rey or his mother.

Ren knows he has them to fear most of all the Resistance members dotted throughout the universe, but Hux has a way of waving away his concerns that is almost as mystical as the Force itself. Hux fights the enemies he sees and does not stray from his plans. That is his mantra. On the days he can convince the Supreme Leader to join him in this practice, the First Order is quite successful indeed.

Since Ren has always had more of physical presence among the officers than his predecessor, there is no longer a wave of paralyzing fear that washes across the command bridge whenever he steps out to watch Hux work. Today, they are bringing a planet to its knees. Ren can see its surface burning through the viewport.

Hux doesn’t sense him until he’s standing at his elbow. The man inclines his head toward Ren and softly says, “Supreme Leader?”

“Carry on, Grand Marshal,” he replies, content to watch in silence.

Hux bows his head graciously and does just that, smiling in his small way, briefly checking the timepiece on his wrist.

Ren knows he won’t stop until every living thing in the universe bows before them both.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don't have a beta, so I apologize for any errors you might've encountered. I won't be insulted if you have the burning need to point them out to me.
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed!


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